


The Handsomest Guy at the Dance

by RembrandtsWife



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, F/M, First Meetings, High School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9552974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/RembrandtsWife
Summary: How Suzanne met Richard.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Rarepairs". I have seen little if any fic centered on Suzanne and Coach's relationship, so that's where I went. Thanks to Dizzy Redhead for beta! 
> 
> More detail on the Attempted Sexual Assault tag can be found in the end notes.
> 
> Check, Please! is created by Ngozi Ukazu, to whom I am extremely grateful.

She had come to the dance with the handsomest guy there, but she was going home alone.

Suzanne sidled out of the ladies' room, looking up and down the hall to make sure the coast was clear. Should she even bother to go back to the auditorium? She'd just have to watch Chuck dance with some other girl, maybe put the moves on her the way he had on Suzanne. But instead of freezing up and pushing him away, the way she had, that girl would kiss him back and take him by the arm and saunter out to his car like she wasn't ashamed of herself for what she was about to do.

Fresh tears threatened her makeup. Suzanne dabbed her eyes and hurried away from the sound of the band honking its way through Prince's "1999" *again*. She had her handbag and her wrap, so she didn't need to go back for anything. If it weren't for these damned shoes, she could just walk home, but she could call a cab from the pay phone in the lobby. Hopefully Mr. Pajunas wouldn't still be in his office this late.

"Hey Suzanne!"

She automatically turned at the sound of her name, then winced, because it was Chuck. Lord, he really was handsome, even drunk--and yes, he might deny it, but those flushed cheeks and that little wobble in his stride gave it away. She took a deep breath, ready to stiffen her spine and walk away like a lady, but he was moving too fast--her back was against somebody's locker and Chuck's running back bulk was between her and the lobby doors.

"Where do you think you're going, missy? You came here with me!"

"Yes, and you p-pawed at me like an ape and then ditched me when I didn't want--I wouldn't--"

Chuck laughed in her face, a hot gust of fruity, boozy punch-breath. "Because you think you're too good to give a blow job? Is that what you're trying to say?"

Heat flooded her face, and for a moment Suzanne nearly choked on her indignation. "Charles Michael MacDonald! How dare you use that kind of language in front of a lady?"

"Is that what you think are, Suzie? Think you're some kinda lady? Think you're better than me cos your daddy went to college and mine didn't?" He planted his hands on either side of her head, making the whole row of lockers shudder, and her with them. "Well, I paid for your damn corsage and your drinks tonight, so I plan to get what I paid for--"

One big heavy hand landed on her shoulder and pushed. Before she knew it, her knees had buckled and hit the floor; Chuck had one foot on the poofy skirt of her green gown, one hand still on her shoulder, and the other hand gripping her jaw.

"Just open up, Suzie, this won't take long--"

For a long cold moment, she thought it was really going to happen. Chuck was going to make her suck him off, he was going to come in her mouth or maybe, if she was lucky, on her dress, her pretty dress she had been so pleased with, and then he would talk about her and make her sound like some kind of--"

"MacDonald!"

Chuck let go of her so fast she almost fell over. Her hand went to her jaw, where his grip had left a hot, painful print.

"What the hell are you doing, MacDonald?" She recognized the guy who had come up behind Chuck--of course she did. Everybody knew Rick Bittle, the star quarterback.

"I was--we were just--it's nothing--"

Bittle wasn't as tall as Chuck, or as good-looking, but he was broader and heavier and a darned good quarterback.

"If you were doing what I think you were doing, you can get your gear out of the locker room and go home, now, because Monday morning, I'm reporting you to Coach and Pajunas both."

Chuck laughed, a weak and shaky sound. She'd feel shaky, too, if Rick Bittle was frowning at her like that. "No, we were just--we were just playing, weren't we, Suzie?"

His big blue eyes, a little glassy from the punch, looked at her like the eyes of a puppy who wants you to ignore the expensive shoes he just chewed up. Suzanne tried to stand up, wobbled, and felt Bittle's hand under her elbow, steadying her. As soon as she was on her feet, he stepped back, pulling Chuck with him.

"My name is Suzanne, Mr. MacDonald. And he tried to assault me, Mr. Bittle." Her voice quavered despite her sudden flood of anger.

Bittle narrowed his eyes at her. "Judging from that mark on your face, he did assault you. Whether or not he did what he was thinking of doing." He looked at Chuck with evident disgust. "What'd I tell you, MacDonald? Go home. We don't need the likes of you on our team."

Chuck's expression suggested he had a whole speech he was ready to deliver, starting with, "Oh yes, you do." Then Bittle folded his arms across his chest, fists curling, and Chuck jerked his head and stalked away.

Bittle's posture relaxed; he turned back to Suzanne and, oh my, that was a nice smile, even though it was hesitant. "Are you all right, Suzanne?"

"Yes, I'm--" Lord, she was crying again. She fumbled in her tiny purse for more tissues. "I guess I'm not all right, but I will be."

A large, clean white handkerchief appeared before her eyes. She took it gratefully. "Could I give you a ride home? If I do anything you don't like, you can report me to Coach and the principal when I report MacDonald."

He was smiling more broadly now. She had never noticed what lovely, warm brown eyes their star quarterback had. "Thank you, Rick. But, don't you have a date?"

He looked embarrassed. "I did, but she, uh, got sick this morning, so I just went ahead and came stag." He rubbed his knuckles over his forehead, pushing back brown hair that was too short to fall in his eyes. "Besides, I had been thinking of asking you, but you'd already said yes to MacDonald."

What a thing. She'd been so thrilled that Chuck had noticed her; his attention was like a spotlight that made a girl bigger and brighter. She'd never even noticed that Bittle was looking her way, he was so quiet. "Well, I'm really ready to go home now, but maybe we could get together next weekend and do something?"

Some guys still took offense if a girl asked them out. But Rick smiled again, and it was really doing things for her. "I'd like that."

"Okay then. I'll give you my phone number in the car." She gathered her wrap around her shoulders, and Rick walked with her down to the front door. 

She had come to the dance with the handsomest guy there, but she was going home with a good man.

**Author's Note:**

> The OMC attempts to force Suzanne to give him a blowjob. Coach intervenes. The story takes place when the characters are in high school.
> 
> I am [rembrandtswife](http://rembrandtswife.tumblr.com) on Tumblr and [samwellalumna](http://samwellalumna.tumblr.com) is my CP sideblog.


End file.
